He did not wish to let his face be seen. A dash
of dark color grew in the heir's pallid cheeks, partly because he knew
he had been heard, partly because he was angry at the princess'
interruption.
"Strange," mused Menes once again, "that the phrases of war mark the
babble of even the maidens these days. And half the revels end in
quarrels. Though I be young in war experience, I would say the omens
point to conflict in which Egypt shall be embroiled."
"Aye, Menes; and perchance thou wilt be measuring swords with a Hebrew
ere the summer is old," Siptah said, speaking for the first time.
"Matching thy good saber-metal with a trowel or a hay-fork, Menes,"
Rameses sneered.
"Hold, thou doughty pride of the battling gods!" Menes cried laughingly
to Rameses. "For once, I scout thy prophecies. The Hebrews are
stirred up beyond any settling, save thou dost put them all to the
sword, and that is a task that I would go to Tuat to escape. Thou wilt
not work the Israelite to death. I can tell thee that!"
"Hast caught the infectious terror of the infant-scaring, bugbear
Hebrew?" Rameses asked.
Menes leaned against the nearest knee and smiled lazily.
"If the gray-beard sorcerer did meet me in open field, protected only
with bull-hide and armed with a spear, I would fight him till he said
'enough'; but who wants to go against an incantation that would mow
down an army at the muttering? Not I; yea, Rameses, I am a craven in
battle with a sorcerer.
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